


Go to Sleep, Sammy

by AnalogicalMalfunction



Category: Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brothers, Gen, Growing Apart, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22767304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnalogicalMalfunction/pseuds/AnalogicalMalfunction
Summary: Sam's having nightmares...And is worried he might be reliving one.
Relationships: Sam Emerson & Michael Emerson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Go to Sleep, Sammy

Sam knew it wouldn’t last.

Or maybe he didn’t _know_ , maybe it was just pessimism born out of the catastrophic events that lead them here, and the sheer luck that they’d all gotten through it alive. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t shake the idea that it wasn’t over. Even after everything seemed to go back to normal.

Except for the nightmares. Those were new, and they didn’t help. They didn’t go away either.

The nightmares started the night they’d beaten Max and the others. The house was barely standing, but they didn’t have the money for a hotel that would be charging tourist prices during the summer months, especially if they also wanted to be able to repair the damage.

He offered to sleep in Michael’s room, his own bed shredded by that kid, Laddie. It made sense to share a bed, they’d done it before when they were younger, and besides, there was no time to get a new mattress. No money either, not with the repairs the house would need. No sense in wasting the money on something they didn’t need, when they could be saving it to fix things like the plumbing, and the giant hole in the wall. Mom patted him on the head and called him thoughtful, and self sacrificing. He didn’t agree but wasn’t going to turn down the compliment.

Not that it mattered, because Michael couldn’t sleep anyway. Too wired from the fight, too used to sleeping during the day, and maybe feeling responsible for everything that happened, he spent the night keeping watch and cleaning up some the mess left by the vampire attack on their house.

Sam didn’t like that. The cleaning was fine, less work for him, but the fact that it also meant he had to sleep by himself. He didn’t want to admit it, not after celebrating being vampire killing badasses with the Frog brothers — never mind what happened immediately after — but he was afraid to be alone. Afraid there was another vampire out there. After all, they’d thought they won before, only to find out that not only did they miss one, but they’d missed most important one, the _head vampire_ , Max.

Most of all, he was afraid of losing Mike again.

Which probably explained the nightmares.

The details changed but the important bits stayed the same. He was at the cave’s entrance, with Michael. One of the vampires, usually David, charged out and grabbed his brother, dragging him back to their den. Mike would be screaming for Sammy to help him, but he would be frozen, unable to act. Sometimes it was one of the others. Twisted Sister, The Little Guy, Death by Stereo, and Max. Even Star and Laddie showed up a few times, full vampires now. He didn’t even know how Star looked when she went all bloodsucker, but his mind filled in the blanks just fine.

The worst ones, though? Those were the ones where he’d look over to Mike, and he’d be gone. Sam would look at the cave again, and there his older brother was, a vampire now. A killer. He could see it in his bloodshot yellow eyes.

He’d wake up tangled in sheets, barely stifling his screams. Sometimes he’d wake up Michael, his brother having finally rejoined the living and sleeping at night like a normal person. He’d make some stupid joke about how Sam had hogged the blankets again, and how much he couldn’t wait until they got him a replacement mattress. The joke would fall flat. Doubly so since his heart didn’t seem to be in it.

“Like we can afford it after what your friends did to the house,” he snapped back after hearing it one too many times. “Besides, it’s not my fault your girlfriend’s kid turned it into confetti.” He knew it wasn’t fair. Especially since he and the Frog brothers had at least as much to do with the damage as the vampires. And Nanook.

He couldn’t help it. It bothered Sam when his brother was like this. He had to say something, _anything_ to snap his brother out of the funk he was in.

Anyway, it was supposed to be a joke. Sort of. It failed too.

“He’s not her kid.” The irritation sounded real, at least. One point for Sam Emerson. Then Mike sighed. He didn’t have to see his brother clearly to make out the shape slumping against the bed, to hear the regret and exhaustion in his voice as he said, “Go to sleep, Sammy.”

And back to zero.

In the morning he woke up to an empty bed. He found Mike asleep on the couch downstairs. After that night, he kept sleeping on the couch. He told their mom it was to give Sam space, at least until he got his room back.

One night, during a particularly bad dream, in which the fully vamped out Michael had actually attacked him, he woke screaming his brother’s name so loudly that he woke up the entire house. His mother rushed in to comfort him, petting his hair and assuring him that whatever it was, it was only a nightmare. Then Grandpa said something that only he thought was funny. Sam guessed it was supposed to cheer him up. It didn’t work, but it distracted him at least, which was close enough.

All the while, Michael stood in the hallway, a haunted look on his face.


End file.
